Heart and Soul
by Winter Solstice1
Summary: COMPLETE SSHG Severus goes late night wandering and finds something and someone most unexpected...
1. Default Chapter

A/N: The only part of this story that belongs to me is the plot, everything else that you see belongs to the marvellous JKR, although I'm sure we could come to some agreement about time sharing Snape.  
  
Harmless fluff, all written in one morning. It's quite clichéd, I apologise if there are a lot of familiar things about this plot and story. No plagiarism is intended!  
  
***  
  
It was late.  
  
The clock in the Great Hall had struck midnight a few minutes before Severus Snape heard the muffled sound of a piano being played somewhere in the castle. Knowing that no such musical instrument was to be found, his eyebrows drew together in a small frown. He felt his interest grow a little. Patrolling the corridors had been unusually uneventful that evening and; Hogwarts was nearing the end of the Summer term, and long sunshine-filled days seemed plenty enough time for the students to get up to whatever misdemeanours they wished to without venturing out of the dormitories after curfew. In the past week he had barely had the opportunity to give out a handful of detentions with the irascible Filch, and this late night musical exercise struck Snape as a most definite breach of school rules.  
  
Abandoning his journey towards the dungeons and his rooms, Snape wheeled about in a graceful arc of black robed intent and made his way along one of the ground floor corridors towards the sound of the piano. He was more than a little perplexed when the music grew louder and then began to fade once he reached a certain point along the hallway. Backing up a little to where the delicate sounds seemed loudest he stared at the blank stone wall in front of his face.  
  
Odd.  
  
Walking further back down the corridor did nothing to reveal the source, and unless the castle walls had taken up a surprising new hobby, it seemed to him that there was a room concealed just beyond his reach. It occurred to Severus that a hidden room was probably nothing to do with a student breaking rules, as this was powerful magic indeed, but his curiosity had been well and truly piqued and he was determined to discover the source of the music. He had almost given up, and was doubling back one last time when the dark wood-panelled door materialised out of the wall.  
  
Severus stared at it a little incredulously, and then shook his head. He would never make the mistake of thinking he knew everything about the castle that there was to know, but it surprised him that even after many years' acquaintance with the old building it could still produce such secrets. Placing a hand upon the brass door handle he found that it depressed easily, and the door opened silently inwards to a dark room.  
  
Stepping inside, Severus was certain that the source of the music was there, and casting about him it was only a few seconds before his dark eyes alighted upon the baby grand piano on the far side of the room facing a bank of floor to ceiling arched windows through which bright moonlight provided the only source of light. He wondered briefly if he had expected the piano to be playing itself, for there was a small figure sitting at the keys, her back to him as she played.  
  
Long curls trailed down her back, swaying a little as she moved slim hands across the keys, and she had not yet realised that she was not alone in the room. Severus closed the door behind him and leaned against it a moment to listen. The tune that she was playing was hauntingly beautiful and quite out of place on such a balmy summer evening. He did not recognise it beyond the fact that it was certainly not a classical piece. Approaching the piano and player on silent feet he fully expected her to be startled by his sudden appearance on one side of the instrument, but instead she merely looked up at him for a moment whilst her hands did not still upon the keys.  
  
Snape stared down at the top of her curly head and wondered if anybody else knew that Hermione Granger was such an accomplished pianist.  
  
She continued to play for several long minutes, and as the tune faded away into the stillness of the room her hands finally stilled and she lifted her cinnamon eyes to his.  
  
"Hello, Professor Snape," she said quietly, inclining her head to his.  
  
"Miss Granger," Snape nodded to her in the respectful fashion that was expected of him. She was Head Girl, after all.  
  
There was a pause, whilst he wondered what to do with her. As Head Girl she was entitled to roam the school more or less at will, and it was true that she had similar patrolling duties to his. Detention seemed more or less out of the question, but he found himself reluctant to let her go unpunished for her strange behaviour.  
  
"Explain yourself." He frowned at her and spoke in clipped tones. She blushed prettily and finally looked away from him down to where her hands were folded in her lap.  
  
"I was playing the piano," she murmured.  
  
"I can see that!" He snapped.  
  
"I wasn't aware of breaking any school rules." Her apparent defiance should have angered him further, and he opened his mouth to admonish her further but no words would come. She had a point.  
  
"Explain to me, then, how I was not aware until a few minutes ago that Hogwarts contained a room with a baby grand piano in it?" He spoke softly, watching as she relaxed a little.  
  
"This is the Room of Requirement," she said, lifting her head to look up at him again. "It will provide you with whatever you need . . . as long as you need it badly enough." A small frown crossed her face fleetingly as she met his eyes, and Snape found himself looking past her to the piano. It was a beautiful instrument, of that there was no doubt. And as for the one who was playing it . . . he took a moment to look over Hermione Granger. At eighteen years old, the seventh year was quite the young woman. Her skin was peachy clear in the moonlight, her burnished curls sat prettily across her shoulders. Her brown eyes were soft and trusting on his face, and Severus found himself astonished. It had been a long time since anybody had looked at him with such quiet confidence.  
  
Hermione tilted her head a little to one side, and smiled a small smile at him. Snape leant his elbows against the shiny surface of the piano lid and rested his chin in his hands, looking down at her warily.  
  
Much had changed in the wizarding world that year. Not six weeks ago, the Dark Lord Voldemort had been finally and irrevocably despatched to his maker by one Harry Potter, and Snape had been there in that final, bloody battle. Not so close as to affect Potter's duel with Voldemort, but close enough. He remembered that Hermione Granger had been there too, struggling to reach her friend's side as the battle raged. She had stood shoulder to shoulder to him when it was all over, he remembered too the look of concern on her face when she had seen his injuries. She had insisted on staying with him until his safe return to Hogwarts and subsequent installation in the hospital wing, she had even held his hand.  
  
A smile flickered across his face, and he returned from his reverie. It was strange; he had not remembered that seemingly insignificant fact until now.  
  
"You held my hand," he said slowly.  
  
Hermione did not ask to what he was referring to. She did not need to.  
  
"I did." She nodded shyly.  
  
"Why?" He felt compelled to ask. Hermione looked confused.  
  
"I would have done the same for anybody," she said, in apparent surprise.  
  
"Then you consider that even I am worth saving?" Severus meant to only think the words, but his mouth spoke them all the same. She frowned.  
  
"Of course. Don't you?"  
  
Snape did not know how to answer her question. Freed from the burden of responsibility his role as a spy had bequeathed him, he had expected to feel a weight lifted from his shoulders with the Dark Lord's demise. He had not, and instead continued to live his days with a peculiar kind of bitterness tainting them. He did not seek reward for his actions, but fulfilment had evaded him. Emptiness was a great yawning hole inside him, he felt hollow.  
  
"Professor?" While he had slipped into his thoughts, Hermione had become concerned. He looked down to see her small hand curled around his forearm and her concerned expression. "Are you all right?"  
  
"Quite all right." Her warm hand gave his arm a reassuring little squeeze and then she let go. Snape looked into her velvety eyes and managed a very small smile. "Thank you for your concern."  
  
In response, she shifted sideways upon the piano seat she was resting upon.  
  
"Sit?" She invited quietly. "Do you play, Professor Snape?"  
  
Severus sat down hesitantly next to her. The seat was not really big enough for two, but as they were both slim it was comfortable enough. He was aware of his left thigh pressing against her right one, but as she did not seem phased he did not let it concern him. They jostled elbows almost playfully, and stared at each other.  
  
"Only a little, Miss Granger. I am not nearly so accomplished as you."  
  
Stretching his long legs and then tucking them beneath the piano, he saw her smile delightedly and felt his heart give a funny little lurch.  
  
"Seven years." She was shaking her head. "It has taken you seven years to compliment me, Professor."  
  
"Then you are worthy indeed." He smiled again, this time a little wider, and she did not miss it. Tucking a stray curl behind her ear, she stretched her fingers over the ivories.  
  
"I wonder, do you know 'Heart and Soul'? It's a muggle song, but two people can play if one plays tune and one accompaniment . . ."  
  
"I know it. Will you accompany me, Miss Granger?" Snape leaned forward and frowned in concentration as he positioned his hands above the keys. Hermione began the accompaniment and he played the tune with confident fingers, humming along in a tuneful baritone. The music she had chosen was disarmingly simple, but beautiful, and although they only played together for a few minutes, Severus felt his soul lift a little. Hermione overreached a little on the last few chords, and as the music faded in a haze of uncertainty Severus slowly became aware that her hand was resting gently upon his.  
  
"I . . . oh . . .sorry." Flushing scarlet, she moved as if to lift her hand away, and Severus surprised both of them by catching it between both of his, and holding it firmly.  
  
"Strange," He looked up and into the middle distance beyond the windows. He was speaking aloud again. "Strange how playing the piano and holding someone's hand can mean more than . . ." He trailed off uncertainly.  
  
"Professor Snape? Severus?" Hermione leaned into him, and when he heard her speak his name it felt as though he was being called home. Taking a deep breath, he turned his dark eyes to hers.  
  
"Hermione," he breathed, and then it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to lean down and kiss her gently on the lips. She did not recoil as he expected, and instead returned the kiss with gentle pressure of her own. When the kiss broke, they stared at each other with surprised eyes.  
  
"I don't know how that happened . . ." he whispered, and she gave a small shrug.  
  
"Room of Requirement . . . gives you anything you wish for," she muttered, and he could not help himself when he kissed her again.  
  
They broke apart breathlessly and as Hermione leaned into him, Severus put his arms around her and held her gently against him.  
  
"You should be in bed." In a brave attempt to restore the balance, he murmured into her hair. It tickled his nose, not unpleasantly.  
  
"So should you." She replied.  
  
"Tell me," he wondered. "Will this strange spell we appear to be under end once we leave this room?"  
  
Her laugh was unexpected and melodius.  
  
"I hope not." Her eyes as she lifted them to his were serious. "I've waited for you for such a long time," she sighed.  
  
"Not as long as I've waited for my Order of Merlin," he countered with a smile.  
  
"Ah yes. Severus Snape, Order of Merlin First Class," Hermione smiled. "You're a war hero now."  
  
"Do not mock me, Miss Granger," he spoke with humour and poked her to prove his point.  
  
"Sorry," her eyes were dancing with laughter, and if he was not very much mistaken . . . love. "Will you meet me here again, Severus?"  
  
"I will meet you whenever . . . and wherever, you like." He kissed her, sensing the beginning of something very special. The emptiness within seemed to receed slightly as he looked upon her happy face. He had long appreciated her great mind, and now it appeared that he could appreciate her for something else, also. Could it be that he, Severus Snape, was about to embark upon a relationship?  
  
Hermione sighed with pleasure, he looked down at her hopefully.  
  
"I was hoping you would say that," she said.  
  
END  
  
*** A/N: If you would like to listen to 'Heart and Soul' do a google search using the phrase 'heart and soul I fell in love with you' and click onto the first webpage the search engine finds. Music and lyrics are provided. Happy listening! 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I actually intended this story to be a one-shot, but a plot bunny has attacked me and won't let me be, so I've decided to expand it a little to three chapters. The third will be posted as soon as I've written it. Thanks for reading!  
  
Thanks to everyone for all of their kind reviews so far, especially DistinctVagueness - you're a star and I really appreciate your encouragement.  
  
***  
  
Two weeks had passed since Severus' encounter with Hermione in the Room of Requirement, two weeks in which he had dared not venture back to see her again. The music had reached him often as he patrolled the corridors, soaring and dipping into a haunting tune that tugged at his heart and threatened to overwhelm his senses completely, but he had made the conscious decision to avoid both the Room, that corridor and Miss Granger entirely.  
  
The first two were easily achieved, but the third had posed him more of a problem.  
  
Seeing her twice a week in his Advanced Potions class had been agonisingly difficult, and he had struggled to avoid her brown-eyed gaze. Sensing her eyes upon him, he had chanced a glance at her on several occasions, only to meet a look of sweet determination that had frightened him into looking away again. If she was hurt by his ignoring her, Hermione did not show it, and those looks aside, Snape found no other fault with her performance in class or as Head Girl. She did not attempt to speak to him privately or otherwise and he was reduced to stealing covert looks at her when she was absorbed in a task that required she not look at him. Then he allowed himself the liberty of turning questions silently over in his mind.  
  
He had still found no justification for what had happened that night in the room he had come to refer to as the 'piano room', and was depending upon a notion that the room had somehow made him behave in such a completely out of character manner. When he recalled the things he had said, he winced as though physically pained. When he remembered kissing her, his face became unusually flushed, and after some strange looks from other members of the school faculty he refrained from doing so in public.  
  
Blaming the room was all well and good when Severus discovered, some ten days after the event, that he could not stop thinking about it. About her. Falling into the habit of scanning the corridors for a glance of her face unnerved him, but he could not help himself. When he spotted her in the company of Potter or Weasley or both, as she frequently was, he struggled to contain feelings of jealousy and anger. He observed her easy manner with her friends, and wished that he could be part of that select group.  
  
He knew that should he go to her she would reaffirm the things she had said to him that night, but still he held back, watching as the look in her eyes faded from determination to hope and finally to dull acceptance. There would be no repetition, he told himself sternly. She would get over it. She was too young anyway. What could a child know about love?  
  
But, in truth, what did Severus know about love?  
  
He asked himself this question late one night whilst protectively cradling a glass of Firewhiskey to his chest, and the answer surprised him. He had never been in love, he realised, not really. He remembered fleeting attractions, infatuations, lust, but nothing that could be adequately described as 'love'. This surprised him, given his arrogant assumptions that he had experienced all life had to offer, and he turned his thoughts back to the look on Hermione's face that night. Warmth coursed through him that he knew had very little to do with the whiskey in his hands, and then came the realisation that she probably knew more about love than he did. And she wasn't a child.  
  
The glass containing the whiskey was flung into the empty fireplace with astonishing force, but the ensuing breakage did little to console him.  
  
The end of term and consequently the end of Hermione's time at Hogwarts, drew increasingly closer, until the night before had arrived. Severus viewed the Leavers' Ball with intense trepidation, and as any attempts he had made to be excused were met by Dumbledore with a firm 'no' he was forced to endure the spectacle of young adults, intoxicated by the thought of leaving school for good (and intoxicated by other means too, he thought sourly) behaving foolishly. Seven years of bad behaviour could easily be squeezed into one evening, he knew from experience.  
  
Despite heroic effort on his part, he found his eyes being drawn to Hermione and the other Gryffindors around her more than was appropriate. She seemed to be making an equally valiant effort to ignore him, but their eyes had met on more than one occasion and Severus had been shamed into looking away. When the dancing had begun he had taken the opportunity to retreat into a dark corner of the Great Hall where he could observe goings on without challenge.  
  
On the far side of the hall he noticed a commotion from within a huddle of Gryffindors, Hermione included, and then watched as she detached from the group and made her way determinedly in his direction. The horrified looks on the faces of Potter and Weasley made Severus shrink further back into the shadows. Whatever it was she was going to do, it was not pleasant.  
  
"Professor Snape," Hermione addressed him in a loud voice as she approached, and he stared at her wordlessly. Potter and Weasley were virtually goggling at the pair of them.  
  
"Hello Miss Granger," Severus spoke reluctantly, and felt an accompanying frisson of excitement at her proximity. He took a moment to observe her glossy curls and neat figure encased in well-fitting dress robes of silvery- grey before lifting his dark eyes to hers, and speaking in a deadpan voice. "What do you want, Miss Granger."  
  
"Do you dance, Professor?" She took a step closer towards him, and he caught the scent of her perfume on the air. She smelt like an angel. He resisted the urge to pull her into his arms and keep her there . . .  
  
Then disbelief at her words kicked in. Over her shoulder he saw her friends were clinging onto each other and laughing. At her? With her? He no longer knew.  
  
"Are you asking me to dance, Hermione?" He spoke in a low voice, to warn her off such foolishness. She glanced around self-consciously and leaned in towards him.  
  
"Harry and Ron have made a bet with me. Fifty galleons say that you won't dance with me," her expression changed to one of hopefulness. "I'm willing to share it with you . . ."  
  
"For Merlin's sake!" Grasping her firmly by the wrist Severus all but dragged her to the dance floor, ignoring the astonished looks he was receiving. The music, which until that point had been rather lively and fast paced, suddenly gave way to something a lot slower. He lifted his eyebrows in disbelief and looked down at Hermione.  
  
"Dance then!" He hissed at her, and then he gathered her gently into his arms into an acceptable dance hold. Their bodies were only touching where his hand was resting upon her waist and where his other hand was resting on top of hers, but all the same he could feel the heat of her. She was as good a dancer as she was a pianist. Refusing to meet her eyes, Severus instead looked over her shoulder in a carefully constructed expression of boredom, and caught sight of Potter and Weasley looking absolutely mortified. Turning his partner around a little so that she could see this, he then leant down to murmur into her ear:  
  
"I think your friends have lost their bet, Hermione."  
  
She stiffened a little in his arms, and Severus fully intended then to let her go and stalk off in the direction of the dungeons, but the expression of humour and delight that crossed her face stopped him, and he instead found himself risking tugging her a little closer to him. She looked up at him in surprise and opened her mouth to speak. He shushed her with a look.  
  
The feel of her warm female body pressing against his own was almost too much to bear, and all at once Severus felt all of his reluctance to see her alone again fade away. He knew that his feelings could not be denied any longer, and was about to tell her so when the song abruptly ended and Hermione pulled herself firmly out of his arms. He was about to walk away from her when he heard her speak to him in a whisper.  
  
"Room of Requirement, at midnight."  
  
She did not give him the chance to answer, and was immediately swallowed up by the crowds of people around them as she walked away. Severus stared thoughtfully off into the middle distance for a moment, made his decision, and then stalked off to the solace of his rooms. 


	3. Chapter 3 Finally!

Midnight.  
  
The clock in the entrance hall had struck twelve solemn beats when Severus Snape emerged from the dungeons and crossed the floor on his way to the Room of Requirement. He paused and gazed wearily upon the seventh year students that were still thronging the area. Some pointed looks had some scurrying off in the directions of their dormitories, but most were seemingly oblivious. Hermione, he noted, was not among any of the groups, not that her absence seemed conspicuous to any of them, Potter and Weasley included.  
  
His frown deepened as he entered the silent empty corridor which housed the room of requirement and the piano music, quieter than usual but if he strained his ears Severus could still make out gentle notes he was sure she was playing. Feeling vaguely silly, he walked past where he knew the threshold of the door to be three times whilst concentrating again upon finding the source of the noise, and was relived when the door materialised as it had done previously.  
  
Placing a hand on the door handle, Severus took a deep breath and a moment to gather himself. The events of the evening had unsettled him greatly, and even now he was not sure that he was doing the right thing. When she had asked him to come here, his first and only thoughts had been of her, and heart racing, he had decided to meet her. An hours' silent reflection in his rooms had allowed doubt to creep in, leaving him nervous and unsure. The fact that this was almost certainly her last night in the castle was not lost on him, and he wondered what she wanted of him, he already having made his feelings perfectly clear by his absence.  
  
Until now.  
  
The music within the room stilled unexpectedly, and Severus pushed the door open in sudden fear that he would not find her there at all. He was sure she would hear the hammering of his heart as he entered the room, but her still form at the piano betrayed no knowledge of his being there at all. Hesitating by the door, he observed her shake her head slightly, and then she began to play again.  
  
The first bars of Moonlight Sonata took him by surprise, filling the small room with a solemn intensity before quickly soaring into sorrowful tune that formed an unexpected lump high up in Severus's throat. He swallowed, finding himself unaccountably nervous, and allowed himself to lean slightly against the door, watching her as she played.  
  
The room was lit only by moonlight this night, but it was bright, spilling in through the high, arched windows that lined up unobscured all the way along one wall. The silvery light, seemingly absorbed by her dress robes, made Hermione shine as though she were a star, borrowed from the heavens to play only for him.  
  
Severus sighed and moved upon silent feet towards the piano, staring down at the look of concentration upon her face as her hands flew across the keys. She was playing a difficult, demanding piece, but he knew that she was not simply showing off. He searched his mind for a definition of a sonata and found one with a jolt.  
  
A sonata, he mused, was a musical form consisting of either three or four separate movements, each varying in pace, in tone, in style. If his first meeting with Hermione in this room was the first, their dance earlier the second, and his being here with her now the third, would there be a fourth?  
  
The music died away as Severus considered this, and Hermione twisted a little to look up at him, her eyes unreadable.  
  
"This sonata only has three movements, Professor," she said quietly, getting to her feet, and answering his unspoken question with apparent ease.  
  
From a proximity of only a few feet, Severus stared at her. Her expression was resolute, without any of the sadness or rebuke that he had been expecting. She had prepared herself carefully for this, he sensed, and she knew exactly what she would do, what she would say...  
  
This thought angered him, and determined to upset her carefully orchestrated plans he had no hesitation in reaching out and tugging her smartly into his arms. She stared up at him, and he down at her, astonished by the warmth he found within the depths of her cinnamon eyes, feeling strangely lost when she bit her lip and looked away from him blindly, her eyes casting this way and that. She had stared at the piano, at the door, and out of the window before he found sufficient courage to reach out and hold her face between his hands, feeling her warmth radiating back into his palms.  
  
She closed her eyes then, and leaned into him wearily.  
  
"I am not a child, Professor," she said quietly, without opening her eyes.  
  
"I know that," a glance at her silvery robes, and the gentle curves within them assured him of this. Dipping his head, he placed a chaste kiss against her upturned mouth, pulled away to find that she was staring at him in some confusion, and then inexplicably found himself kissing her again, wrapping her into his arms and parting her lips with his own. For Hermione's part, she returned his kiss enthusiastically, and not without technique of her own. When he finally pulled away from her, Severus was pleasantly, if breathlessly, surprised. She was looking at him again, he realised, with an expression that he could not read.  
  
Looking over her shoulder, Severus felt within the pockets of his robes and after some searching produced his wand. Pointing it at the baby grand with a few well chosen words, it began to play by itself, a lilting tune that he was sure that she would not recognise. Still within the circle of his arms, Hermione tilted her head to one side and closed her eyes briefly. The merest suggestion of a frown flashed across her face and then she opened her eyes again, smiling up at him smugly.  
  
"Gabriel Faure," she named the composer effortlessly, and found herself rewarded with another kiss.  
  
"Correct," Severus breathed. "And the name of the composition, Hermione?"  
  
He liked the way her name sounded on her lips, he decided. It was...really rather lovely. Hermione. The daughter of Helen of Troy. The daughter of the most beautiful woman in the world.  
  
"I don't know," she admitted crossly, after a few moments' hard thought. Severus guided her gently over to one of the windows, and together they stared out over the magnificent grounds bathed in moonlight. Holding her in his arms, the vanilla scent of her all about him, Severus smiled.  
  
"It is called 'Romance Without Words'. I chose it because it is how I have come to think of my relationship with you. We have never, after all, spent a significant amount of time in each others' company, and neither have we ever spoken of this...this..."  
  
"Romance?" Hermione supplied helpfully. The music in the background soared and dipped unexpectedly, bringing equally unexpected tears to her eyes.  
  
"Yes," Severus nodded. "It is also, and I am sure that the irony of this is not lost upon you, arranged as a duet."  
  
"Like 'Heart and Soul'," she breathed. He reached forward to brush a stray curl away from her face.  
  
"More complicated than 'Heart and Soul', Hermione. We cannot yet play it, for instance."  
  
"Oh, but Severus," she whispered, her eyes shining, making his heart beat painfully hard where it was lodged halfway up this throat. "You will teach me, won't you?"  
  
"It may take years...it may take forever," he told her in mock-seriousness, moving her slowly now in time to the music.  
  
"I'm very patient," Hermione said happily.  
  
"You'd better be." Snape muttered.  
  
Then he smiled at her and knew that everything was as it should be.  
  
Then he kissed her.  
  
END  
  
A/N: This has existed in half-written frustration on my computer for ages now. Listening to some classical music, and the gentle prodding of a reviewer has encouraged me to finally finish it.  
  
The piano duet 'Romance Without Words' does in fact really exist. If you'd like to listen to it, type 'Piano Duets' into a google search and click onto the first link. 'Romance Without Words' is third from the bottom. Click the speaker icon to listen -_et voila_! It really is a lovely piece, and well worth a listen as it set the tone of this chapter! 


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